Harry Potter: The Auror & The Godfather
by gymjunky71
Summary: With the ending of the Second Wizarding War, Harry has a new lease on life. He moves into his own apartment, helps raise baby Teddy with Mrs. Tonks, joins the Aurors, revolutionizes the Ministry of Magic with the help of his friends, and eventually resumes his romance with Ginny.
1. Number 4 Privet Drive

**Chapter One**

**Number 4 Privet Drive**

Harry Potter had intended to never return to Number 4 Privet Drive.

The street was located in Little Whinging, Surrey, near London in the southeast of England. The houses of his old neighborhood were nearly identical to one another with luxury cars parked in every driveway. It was May 2nd, 1998. Standing in the middle of the street, he pulled his invisibility cloak about him in the nippy 50° breeze and gazed up at the overcast sky. He relished this moment of silence, away from prying reporters with their flashing cameras and their intrusive questions.

No one had much care as to what Harry wanted to do. In truth, he _did_ want to celebrate his victory. But, his jubilation was marred by the inconsiderable amount he had lost to be standing on this street today.

On the cusp of a new lease on life.

Harry had fantasized about resting in the Gryffindor dormitory and eating a sandwich from Kreacher, his house elf. Though Tom Riddle Jr. has been vanquished forever, Harry knew he had a few tasks he could not rest without completing. In spite of how the Dursleys had always treated him as a third-class citizen, he would be lying to himself if he claimed he wasn't curious to see how they fared over the last year. Harry watched shadows moving inside the house, blocked off by sheer curtains. He recognized the purple top hat bobbing on top of its silhouette.

Harry walked up the driveway and pulled off his cloak at the front door. He knocked quietly at the door, half-hoping not to be heard. When the door was answered, Harry was deafened by shouts.

"HARRY POTTER!" Diggle shouted. "What are you doing here, my lad?"

He was promptly half-dragged deeper into the house. Jones closed the door behind them. She was a young black haired woman with pink cheeks. The Dursley house was in disarray, though there were signs that cleaning up had started. The Deatheaters had ransacked the place in search of killing the Boy Who Lived. Harry could hear his family gossiping about him in hushed voices from the sitting room.

He had not turned to look at them yet. All the Dursleys would be able to see is Harry's back. They had never seen him in his Magical World attire before.

"You ought to be out celebrating!" Jones was cross with him. "Leading the parade!"

"You'll have a Firewhiskey on me!"

Harry was pulled by Diggle into the sitting room and he fleetingly met Dudley's eyes. He thought he saw a flicker of concern arch over his aunt and uncle's faces. Harry knew he did not look well at all.

"Did you really die?!" Jones was asking Harrt. "We were told that you _died_!"

Harry did not miss the reactions on the Dursleys' faces at that particular question. Dudley was frowning and his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. Still not fully understanding what had happened after Voldemort had hit him with the Killing Curse, Harry did not feel comfortable answering this question.

But, he extended his arms, "I'm alright now."

Diggle tackled him around his chest again. He had always been an excitable man and a devoted fan of Harry's. Harry couldn't help but crack a smile. He had seen the celebrations back at Hogwarts.

"You arrived moments after we did." Jones informed Harry. "We were about to set the house right just as you -"

Harry furrowed his brows, "No, you two go celebrate. _I'll _set the stuff back."

"No!" Diggle cried. "You must go back to the Burrow! The Weasleys will be missing you -"

Harry grinned, "They know where I am and when I'm to return. It's ok. Go. You've earned it."

Perhaps it was because Harry looked as though he might keel over at any moment, but the Aurors did not argue with him further. Harry sniffled and cleared his throat. Diggle and Jones were soon out the door and they turned to wave back at him.

"Thanks a lot." Harry nodded.

"No, thank _you_, Mr. Potter!" Jones replied enthusiastically.

"The Boy Who Lived!" Diggle cheered. "_TWICE_!"

He watched Diggle and Jones disapparated before closing the door behind him. He noticed that the electric fireplace was running and made his way over to the heat. The silence was stupid to Harry. Once his hands were warmed, Harry waved his wand and all of the chairs, tables, cushions, and appliances glided back to their original spots.

He did not know any cleaning spells more advanced than that. He stowed his wand inside of his robe and then, finally, he faced the Dursleys. Harry could see that uncle Vernon wasn't as big, beefy, and purple-faced as before. His black mustache was thinning and had a few strands of silver in it now. He must have lost weight because this was the first time Harry could see his uncle's neck.

Perhaps his uncle had shrunk as well, but Harry was taller than him now.

"I didn't think we'd see you again ... so soon." Uncle Vernon said, blinking himself to the present.

"I can't stay long. I'm just passing through. I've got to meet my godson." Harry explained.

"_Godson_?" Uncle Vernon repeated.

Harry beamed at his feet for a moment before narrowing his eyes up at his uncle, "Forgive me if I don't write you for advice on raising an orphan."

Uncle Vernon said nothing. Harry looked over at his cousin. Dudley had always resembled his father apart from his blond hair. He was slenderer than Harry would have ever thought was possible, though still physically intimidating. Dudley seemed horrorstruck into silence.

Harry wasn't stupid. He knew why they were all looking at him in this way. Though he could appreciate that this past year has not been easy for the Dursleys, they were kept well out of the battle and unexposed from the afflictions of war. And Harry was displaying many symptoms all at once. He was thinner than he had ever been in his life, to an alarming degree.

His cheeks were deflated, his cheekbones jutting out, and the muscles of his jaw were too easily visible. Each time he closed his mouth, they could be seen flexing beneath his skin. He was paler than Nearly Headless Nick. Harry hadn't had the chance to cut his jet-black hair yet, which had grown to his shoulders over the year. He had a number of nicks and bruises on his face.

He had dark circles beneath his striking, green eyes. Even the lenses of his circular glasses were dirty. Harry wondered if the Dursleys were trying to recall how he had looked the last time they saw him. When they had said 'goodbye' for good. He had left Dudley on good enough terms.

Harry then found himself doubting why he had come at all.

_Was he showing off his victory to the Dursleys? _

_ Why would he want to do that? _

_ He didn't need to prove anything to them ... did he?_

After all, they had condemned Harry for being orphaned and discriminated him because of his magical powers. Before he could give any more thought to the matter, Harry addressed them.

"The war is over," Harry announced. "You're safe now. No more safe houses." He looked to his aunt and uncle, "The Deatheaters are being rounded up. The innocent are being released from Azkaban.

"I'm expected at the Ministry tomorrow. I reckon that you'll get your job back, uncle Vernon. Dudley, you can go back to school. Aunt Petunia, you can do ... cleaning. I think I'll speak for everyone when I suggest we keep all further communication to Christmas cards?"

Harry wished they would stop staring ... even more so that they would speak to him. That seemed to be unlikely to happen. Harry had someone important he needed to meet. He nodded curtly and turned to leave when finally Dudley spoke.

"Wait. Aren't you moving back in with us, H-Harry?"

He could not see his aunt and uncle's faces, but Harry pictured their looks of horror at the thought. He made sure his smirk was gone before turning around.

Harry faced Dudley, "No, Dudley."

Aunt Petunia had her jaw set and nodded. It would be inappropriate to them for Harry to ask for a room. Harry wouldn't dream of it even if he were welcomed to. This place was not home for Harry anymore.

"But where are you gonna live then?" Dudley followed up.

That was a question Harry had not been asked by anyone yet. He shouldn't be surprised that it was Dudley whom brought it up. He had been worrying about that very thing the last time they had spoken to each other. Uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia were staring at Harry. It was like Dudley was their mouthpiece.

They were lost for words, probably trying to shake the notion of Harry being a parental figure now. Harry had yet to have the concept hit him, either. He expected that it would once he saw Teddy.

Harry told Dudley, "I'll be renting an apartment near the Ministry, I reckon. Till then, I've got a place to stay with my friends." He then smirked, "As tempting as sharing a bed with you sounds, Big D ..."

Dudley grinned but said nothing. Harry was surprised at himself for being able to crack a joke so soon. Maybe he _would_ be alright after all. Suddenly, Harry's nose led him to noticing a cooler set on the floor near the dining table. When he moved towards it, his aunt and uncle retreated a step or two though he had not passed near them at all.

It was like there was a Bengal tiger loose in their home, unpredictable and dangerous. Harry ought to have known better than to wish for better treatment. He opened their cooler and was pleased to find some sweets in it. Dudley had not changed all that much in the intervening time. That gave Harry some relief.

"May I have one?" he asked his cousin.

Dudley nodded. Harry fished out one and tucked in, leaning on the counter. Harry was hungry enough to eat all the sweets. But, he did not want to impose on the Dursleys any longer. He had done enough of that in his life.

Though it was entertaining to flaunt how much of a better human being he was than his aunt and uncle. To flaunt that they had not ruined Harry when they very well could have. That he was the man he was today without their love ... just showed how strong his spirit was.

Harry wiped his hands on his filthy jeans, "Well, I've got somebody to meet."

He nodded to Dudley and his aunt and his uncle. Closing the front door behind him, Harry felt a fraction of the weight lift off of his shoulders. He did not need to confront the Dursleys directly about the abuse they treated him with. This had been enough.


	2. Meeting Teddy

**Chapter Two**

**Meeting Teddy**

Harry knew that he was leaving one family and joining an entirely new one. He had been most fond of Lupin and had known Tonks for a couple years. But, he had only briefly met her parents. Harry worried what Mrs. Tonks, the only survivor apart from Teddy, would think of him being a part of her grandson's life. As famous as he was, Harry was not much more than a stranger to her.

No doubt Mrs. Tonks would want to be Teddy's primary caregiver, now that her daughter and son-in-law were killed in the war. Harry felt somewhat relieved by that hope, for he had no experience with babies. He promptly felt ashamed for feeling relieved. He was so nervous that he had to resist wringing his hands before knocking at the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Tonks."

Still resembling Bellatrix Lestrange, she had soft light brown hair and kind dark eyes. She lead him through the house. He had awoken on that sofa in this lamp lit sitting room almost a year ago. Mr. Tonks had re-grown his tooth and healed his bone injuries there. Harry trailed his fingers along one of the two delicate tables and brushed past the aspidistra.

He followed Mrs. Tonks down the short hallway to the bedroom in which he had taken a portkey to the Burrow with Hagrid worlds ago. Beside the dressing table was a bassinet. Harry let out a shaky breath. He gazed upon the baby ... his godson. Edward Remus 'Teddy' Lupin was around a month old. Apart from his blue hair, he looked just how Harry had expected him to look: like a baby. He was wearing a very snug cotton onesie, booties, and a tiny sweater.

"So, he's definitely a Metamorphagus." Harry grinned.

"Just like his mum," beamed Mrs. Tonks, nodding.

She gently removed him from his sleep sack. Teddy barely stirred. Watching Mrs. Tonks hold him against her chest, Harry recalled Lupin's fears about his son's genetics.

"Is he also -?"

"He will always half-werewolf. But, he will never show any symptoms." Mrs. Tonks quieted his fears.

Harry let out a heavy sigh and grinned in relief. Then his eyes glazed over with unshed tears. The tension he had felt on the way up to the house had abated somewhat. But now that the moment has come to pass, he was getting nervous again.

But Harry rediscovered his tongue, "C-Can I hold him?"

"Of course. Here, sit at the foot of the bed there."

Harry eased himself down and held out his arms. Teddy was heavier than Harry expected. Without instruction, he cradled Teddy in his arms with Teddy's head resting in the bend of his arm.

"Your paternal instincts are there, Harry." Andromeda grinned. "I didn't have to tell you how. See? You're doing alright."

Harry found himself in an unexpected state of bliss, as if his heart was floating. Briefly, he worried if he would raise Teddy like the Dursleys had raised him. That thought was quickly expunged when he turned over to thoughts of the Weasleys and his teachers. He would never hurt Teddy. Harry never would be mean to him or break his heart.

He believed that now. He would never be like his aunt nor uncle. Though he now related to their compulsion to spoil Dudley. Harry had many things to learn.

"Hello, Teddy. I'm Harry. I'm your godfather."

Harry had never considered what it would be like to be responsible for someone who depends on him for everything. His perspective on the world was changing with each passing second he was holding his godson. Holding him made everything so much more real. He wished Lupin and Tonks were here for Teddy. Now he would have to build Teddy a stable family unit.

Though he had never met another baby, Harry found Teddy to be the most beautiful one ever.

Harry gazed up at Mrs. Tonks, "So ... I am really a godfather now."

"... You're wondering where to start."

Harry nodded, "Do you want to ... I dunno ... split the weeks down the middle?" His cheeks grew hot and he cringed, "I'm going about this the wrong way. Please, don't think I'm trying to take him away from you."

Mrs. Tonks reassured him, "No, of course not. I think that we should take ... _baby_ steps." Harry chuckled quietly and she asked, "I take it that you've never babysat before?" Harry shook his head. "Then I would like to teach you some things before he spends time alone with you. How about that?"

"Thank you." Harry nodded.

"Before ... before ... 'Dora established a bedtime routine. That was a big relief," Mrs. Tonks smiled fondly at her sleeping grandson. "You could do with sleeping for a week, by the looks of you."

Harry had not slept since he left Shell Cottage with Ron, Hermione, and Griphook.

"Tom Riddle Jr. kept me busy." Harry shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "So much has happened."

Mrs. Tonks furrowed her brows, "Do you need to lie down, Mr. Potter?"

Harry explained hurriedly, "No, I'm fine. Really. Still wired, you know? Besides, I'm filthy."

In truth, he felt like he could fall asleep at any moment. He was so sleep deprived. He tried to sit as straight as he had the strength left to. The bed was so inviting, warm, and comfortable. Harry might drift away ...

"Well, you write to me once you've recovered. You can't take care of yourself and my grandson at the same time." Mrs. Tonks said.

Harry nodded. He jolted a little when there was a beep coming from down the hall. Teddy stirred and gave a short cry before snuggling closer to Harry. Harry shifted his cloak away from where it had moved over Teddy's face.

"I'll go get the bottle, check if it's warm enough. We'll have to get more from a breastmilk bank." Mrs. Tonks left the room.

Harry waited till she couldn't be heard any more before the hot tears began to fall down his cheeks. He cried as silently as he could and contained his shudders so as to not wake up Teddy. Harry stroked his soft hair and held his tiny fists. He knew he was not physically ready to give the time Teddy deserved from him. Harry needed to work on himself before he could take care of this little one.

He needed to mourn the dead, sleep, eat, and seek help. Harry might be much younger than Sirius had been. But, mentally he felt twice as old yet somehow still like a teenager. It was a confusing potion of maturity. Sirius would have been around twenty-two when Harry was born. He was arrested a year later.

"I will never leave you, Teddy." Harry promised sleeping Teddy, his voice cracking.

Outside in the hall, Mrs. Tonks stopped short of returning to the bedroom upon hearing Harry's words.

"I know what it's like to grow up without your parents. But, you have nothing to worry about." Harry told Teddy. "You've got your grandmother and you've got me. And the Weasleys and Hermione. I know I can't replace your parents, but I'll give you everything I've got."

Tears still dripping down his face, Harry smiled when Teddy's little hand closed around his finger. The difference in size made Harry understand just how delicate this little lad was.

"I'll get myself better ... a-and I'll get a job so you can have every opportunity you deserve." Harry promised.

Harry slid his finger out of Teddy's grip so that he could dry his face on the sleeve of his robe. He thought he might be done crying and he felt tremendously better having done so. Another good fraction of his stress was eased. Harry sighed and gazed down at Teddy, rocking forward and back. He had so many 'goodbyes' to say.

It was all he could do to not explode over the fact that Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and so many others had been killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry had been dealing with death his whole life, starting with his parents' assassination and again with Cedric Diggory's murder. He had lost Sirius to Bellatrix and Dumbledore to Snape a year apart. It had not been easy ... but he had mourned them all and had came out stronger. He hoped it would happen again.

With a baby in his life now ... Harry had no choice but to get healthy.


	3. To the Burrow

**Chapter Three**

**To The Burrow**

He returned to Hogwarts to go with the Weasleys and Hermione to the Burrow. He was mildly surprised to see Hermione's parents standing at her side. She must have retrieved them from Australia while Harry was visiting the Dursleys and Teddy.

"Come along, Kreacher." he extended a hand down to his little elderly house elf.

Kreacher took his hand and padded along at his side. Harry was so exhausted after those two trips, he found the simple task of walking more difficult than ever before. The questions shouted at him by Daily Prophet reporters were impossible to catch. With security wizards flanking him, he hoped that no photographer snapped a clear photograph of him on that day. Historic day, be damned. He cursed them all inside his head.

Ron and Hermione were not fairing much better and Neville was worse off of all. With his free hand, Harry held Ron's hand and Ron held Hermione's with his other. Along with the Weasley family and the Grangers, they were led through the throng of reporters to the Hogwarts gates. Harry blinked and two Ministry cars appeared parked on the other side of the gates. In the death of her son, Fred, Mrs. Weasley was fussing over the state of her remaining children - Harry included.

Harry caught glimpses of words like 'sick' and 'hospital'. It was the first word that had deterred Harry from going up to Gryffindor tower to pass out. Seeing dark spots had been enough incentive. But, Harry was not keen on going to the hospital for it. He did not have the energy to argue, either way.

He found himself seated in the car and next moment they were pulling up to the Burrow. He either had drifted off to sleep or the entire car had disapparated there. He was also wearing a blanket.

"When did I get a blanket?" he croaked almost incoherently.

Kreacher croaked, "Master was shivering as were his friends. Kreacher gave them blankets."

Harry pulled it tighter around himself, realizing he was cold and breathing a little heavily. His entire body ached. Because his memory was fragmented, it concerned him that he was fading in and out of consciousness. It had been a wise decision to go to the Burrow than nap alone in Gryffindor tower but maybe not the wisest to Apparate to the Dursleys and to meet Teddy in the intervening time. He just wanted to sleep.

He needed water and to eat. Harry gazed weakly around at them all. Everybody was silent and each had their own blanket. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated on either side of Ginny. Ron and Hermione had nodded off beside each other, holding hands. George appeared to be in shock.

Harry grimaced and shut his eyes, grinding his teeth. He had felt so relieved after killed Voldemort. Harry now appreciated the devastation he could not prevent. The security warlocks opened the door for them to file out.

"After you, Mr. Potter." said the one holding Harry's door open.

If it were possible, Harry encountered more difficulty getting _out _of this car than he had lowering himself _in_. Napping had done nothing to boost his energy. Working against gravity was a next to impossible task at the moment. His muscles trembled with the effort and he felt rough hands take his. Looking up, he saw that Ginny was helping him.

"Ginny ...," he whispered, blinking stupidly.

They had broken up a year ago but not because Harry fell out of love with her. It was just the opposite that forced him to make that tough decision. While he was hunting the horcruxes, he watched her dot on the Marauder's Map to pass the time. Seeing her face so close to his was amazing even in his sleep-deprived state. She was battered but still so beautiful.

She had a freckled complexion, long red hair, brown eyes with loads of long eyelashes, and she was petite in stature.

And unexpectedly strong!

With a grunt, Ginny half-lifted Harry out of the car. Harry and Ginny helped her family and Hermione out of the car. Harry noticed that there were more security warlocks from the Ministry waiting for them. Once they had all filed into the Burrow, there was a lot of _pop_s of alcoholic drinks. Their celebrations were much more sober than the ones going on all over the world. Caught alone in the kitchen, he felt his heart in his throat and his eyes burn when George approached him.

Having been used to George being taller than him for so many years, it was a little strange to be looking down on him now. George had been disfigured by a Death Eater nearly a year ago, losing his left ear. He had always been the quieter one when compared to Fred, who always commanded attention. Harry tried to smile for him but couldn't remember how to move his lips.

George extended his arms out to Harry, "It's alright."

Harry accepted the embrace with more force than he would have normally. George grunted when their chests bumped together and Harry hooked his chin over George's stocky shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Harry told him.

George shushed him, "Harry, don't make me thump you upside the head like Fred would want me to. He wouldn't blame you and neither do I."

They swayed on the spot for a few seconds before separating. Harry wedged his finger under his glasses to wipe away the tears that slipped out of his grasp. He nodded at George and took a deep breath. George said some "_there, there_"'s while they walked to join his family and Hermione looking on. Everyone of them looked exhausted and faded.

Harry was dead on his feet at this point, having inhaled a sandwich and many glasses of water. Having food and water in his system made a world of a difference. He dozed off on the sofa in the sitting room and awoke with a start on a cot in Ron's bedroom. Hermione was asleep on Ron's bed and Ron was asleep on the floor space between them in a sleeping bag. Wondering who might have carried him up here, Harry found his glasses and was glad to see that no one had undressed him apart from his robe. It was hanging on the back of Ron's door along with his friends'.

Harry peered out the window, catching the last few moments of the sun setting. Dusk was falling over the Burrow. Owls were hooting and other nocturnal songsters were singing. He could see what appeared to be fireworks going off in the distance. Harry felt a bit confused, groggy, and very hungry. Harry carefully stepped over Ron to reach Hermione's enchanted handbag.

He riffled through it quietly in search of clean clothes to change into. He pulled out a ratty pair of dark wash too-large jeans, his own soft and burgundy henley, and his dark hoodie to keep warm. Dumping his filthy clothes in Ron's hamper, he kept his leather belt to secure the jeans which were kept slipping down his narrow hips. Ron woke up when Harry creaked his bedroom door open.

"Where're you goin'?" Ron yawned.

Harry whispered back, "I'm starved."

Ron glanced over at Hermione and climbed onto his knees to check if she was still asleep, "Let's not wake her."

Harry recalled how the pair of them had gone mad when Harry wandered off in Grimmauld place almost a year ago. They had not been separated from their loved ones for very long yet. In fact, it might have been their first night staying there alone. He noticed Kreacher was asleep in Ron's hamper.

"We're _home_ now, Ron. She'll know we're _somewhere_ in the Burrow."

"She might get scared if she wakes up alone." Ron worried, "I'll wait for her."

Ron and Hermione had kissed during the battle, finally consummating their feelings for one another. Harry was torn between understanding Ron's instinct to stick by her side and wanting him to accompany him down to the kitchen. Harry nodded and left ... leaving the door ajar. Harry found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen but hesitated before entering. Their wands were set on the table nearby them and they were asleep in the kitchen table chairs.

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry said to him quietly. "Wanna go upstairs? I'll keep watch in the kitchen."

Mr. Weasley blinked dozily up at him and Harry could smell the mead off of his breath. Mrs. Weasley awoke with a small jolt and noticed Harry. They both had tear tracks on their cheeks.

"Oh, Harry. You're here. That's right ... that's right. Are any of the other's awake?"

Harry shook his head, "I'll cook breakfast for everyone."

Mrs. Weasley peered out the window while Mr. Weasley got to his feet, "It's evening, dear."

"What day is it?" Harry asked her, trying to hide his urgency. "I was expected at the Ministry in the morning."

"Charlie and George carried you and Ron up. Mr. Granger carried Hermione. Oh, that must've been hours ago."

Harry was relieved. He had not missed his appointment with Kingsley.

Mrs. Weasley was rambling as they left, "Such a sweet boy. _Oh_, my beautiful brave children ... Fred ..."

Harry watched her go, the mother figure he had in his life. He then set about cooking bacon, eggs, fries, and toast for everyone. He had learned how to cook from a very young age while living with the Dursleys. He cooked many of their meals for them. He had not had a proper meal in almost a year.

Aside from the sandwich he ate earlier, their last meal had been bread, cheese, and mead from Dumbledore's brother. The smell of the cooking awoke Hermione's parents in the sitting room. Jet lagged from living in Australia, they bid him 'good morning' before going upstairs to check on their daughter. Ron came staggering dozily down the stairs just as Harry was about to tuck into his supper alone.

"Hermione'll be down in a bit." Ron croaked. He then added in a groan, "_Argh_. I feel smashed, Harry."

His face was ashen and his eyes were puffy, evidence that he had been crying or had been puking or both. Ron was wearing three layers, a grey shirt beneath a button up and a jacket over both. His jeans were battered and loose around his legs like Harry's.

"Too many Firewhiskies?" Harry asked conversationally.

Ron cleared his throat loudly and shivered before shrugging instead of saying 'yes'. They cleaned off their plates tiredly as the rest of the house awoke. Hermione came down while they were making their seconds. Harry could see that she was still wearing her pajamas but had her school robe over them. Ron leapt up to make Hermione her plate.

"I feel so smashed. I feel like I haven't slept a wink," Hermione told them.

Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange at the Malfoy Manor just days ago. Harry's suicide and resurrection paled by comparison to that in his opinion. She was a warrior but he worried for her again. This must be why Ron didn't want to leave his bedroom without her. He had stuck by her side ever since.

She did seem to be her normal-Hermione-self, however.

Harry nodded, "I'm not feeling well, either."

"It hasn't all hit me yet either, Hermione." Ron agreed.

Harry felt strange sitting at the table with them, knowing it wasn't just the three of them for company. They were not hiding in the wilderness anymore. He wondered if they were remarking of this same phenomenon.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, "So, you met Tonks and Lupin's baby?" Harry nodded and she grinned, "How did that go, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, "The 'meeting' was rather one-sided. He slept through most of it."

Ron patted Harry on the back, "At least you didn't completely blow it."

Hermione was too tired to reprimand Ron, "Mrs. Tonks will bring him to the memorial service, won't she?"

They had yet to hear how the dead will be dealt with. Hermione's suggestion to have a memorial service seemed ideal to honor all of the fallen defenders of Hogwarts. Where it would be held was anyone's guess.

Harry shook his head, "I dunno. I hope so."

"Don't be too worried about it, Harry." Hermione consoled him. "Babies don't remember people well till they're around three months old."

Harry took her word for it and solace in it, "So ... that means I have a few extra weeks to screw up before it counts."

This sarcastic remark made his friends laugh.

"So, are you two off to meet Kingsley?" Hermione asked them.

"In the morning. Your dad just told me it's still May 2nd." Ron nodded then frowned, "Aren't you coming, too? He's bound to ask us to be Aurors."

"I know," Hermione beamed at them both. "But, it's not for me. I actually had a dream about graduation last night." She taped her fingernails on her teacup before looking at them, Ron especially, "I'm going back to Hogwarts in September."

The table went quiet. Harry could see how this news did not sit well with Ron. He could relate, having been separated from Ginny for almost a year. He wondered if Hermione and Ron considered themselves to be 'official' yet. Ron tapped his fork on his plate.

_Clack, clack, clack, clack. _

Hermione was watching Ron with apprehension, tapping her nails all the while. Harry knew that she did not regret telling them what she wanted to do with her life. She obviously was hoping that this decision won't hurt Ron's feelings either. He is mourning his brother and currently hung-over. He might be fragile.

Ron cleared his throat, "I think it's a brilliant idea. You graduating. We'll send each other letters."

Though his eyes said otherwise, Ron smiled across the table at Hermione. Harry had seen this expression on Ron before. It was eerily similar to the expression he had worn when he had fought with Harry in the tent and stormed off. It had haunted Harry's thoughts for days. Ron's heart was broken.

"I'll float back across the Black Lake to you, Ron." Hermione told him in a hushed voice; Harry pointedly turned back to his meal. "Nothing's going to change."

Ron leaned across the table to kiss her. They eased out of clear view because of Harry's glasses. There was Harry's answer. Ron and Hermione were finally a couple. Harry hoped the same would happen for him and Ginny with time.


	4. To the Ministry (May 3rd, 1998)

**Chapter Four**

** To the Ministry (****May 3rd, 1998)**

* * *

><p>Hermione left to stay with her parents in their house before Ron and Harry returned to his room to sleep some more. The Granger family had much to catch up on and it was bittersweet to watch her go. Her parents spent longer with Ron than Harry, which seemed to make Ron feel better. It was obvious Hermione had told her mother much about her crush on Ron through the years. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stayed up all night, busy with funeral plans for Fred.<p>

It was difficult to sleep for the family ghoul that lived in the attic was banging on the pipes because it thought it was too quiet in the Burrow. At some point during the night Harry heard someone go up into the attic and stun the ghoul as gently as possible. It was considered more of a pet than a pest to the Weasleys. The ghoul had been moved back to the attic after it stayed in Ron's bedroom for most of the year. Ron's burnt orange posters of the Chudley Cannons were slashed and strewn all over the small space.

Ron woke Harry up at 6 o'clock that morning, grinning when Harry choked on the scent of Ron's aftershave, shampoo, and soap. His blood and dirt slipped off his skin while he soaked, turning the water a strange shade of pink. Voldemort's Cruciatus curse might not have affected him but he had bruises everywhere and many cuts from when Voldemort had tossed him in the air after he thought that Harry was dead. He was lucky to have walked away without any broken bones. Harry could finally look in a proper mirror and he understood Mrs. Weasley's concerns from yesterday.

Even after his first proper bath in months, Harry _still _looked drawn and pinched. Almost sickly. He could hardly distinguish his lips from his skin. He got dressed in another clean set of clothes. Harry then stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door on his confidence.

He hesitated entering Ron's bedroom when he heard quiet sobbing and Ron talking. Pressing his ear to the door, he thought the crier might be George. He thought he might have heard Mr. Weasley's voice as well. Not wanting to intrude, Harry diverted his path to the kitchen. The Burrow was quiet. It was odd but not unexpected.

Harry missed the old days when the house was filled with chatter. The grief that laid over the Burrow as well as in his own heart might get the better of Harry if he did not find an apartment of his own soon. He was swayed for a moment by who was in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Ginny." he smiled. "How are you doing?"

She looked quite annoyed. Ginny had bathed since the battle but she still looked very tired. Her eyes were puffy and pinked. She was sniffling quite a bit. Both of their voices sounded strange from shouting during the battle. She was one of the toughest people he ever knew.

She had suffered directly at the hands of Voldemort from a young age just as he had.

"Skeeter's article is front page," Ginny told him. "Oh, honestly! After everything you've done ... she chooses _that _photograph?"

Harry stooped to see the photograph and groaned. It showed him stumbling down the path and a security warlock helping Harry straighten back up. Because it was a magical photograph, that brief moment was being replayed in a loop.

"I don't even remember that." Harry itched the back of his neck, picking off chopped hairs.

"At least you didn't fall on your face." Ginny shrugged. "Hey, it can't be worse than the photos they got of Neville."

Harry looked where Ginny pointed and his brows jumped, "_Damn_."

_**Our Chosen One: Potter Sticks Close to Weasley Family**_

_** Harry Potter staggers out of the battlefield. The first notable change is his long black hair (that's gonna need to go!). It's clear that he has neglected more than just upkeeping his hair over the last year. The world-famous wizard, turning eighteen in about 3 months, obviously lacked an appetite on his search for what is rumored to be the Dark Lord's horcruxes ...**_

Harry did not care to read further. He knew Rita Skeeter's tactics. She was going to spin rumors that Harry was both mentally and physically unwell just as she has for many years.

"I can't believe the Daily Prophet _let _her run that photo," Ginny curled her lip, flipping the page and taking a furious sip of tea. "Here is the article about the muggle-borns coming out of hiding."

Reading it, Harry rested his head on one hand while feeding himself with his free hand. He felt rested but tired at the same time. He was daunted by what Kingsley might ask of him. He and Ron were due at the Ministry by 7 o'clock.

"I think I'll keep my hair long for a while just to spite Skeeter," Harry tried to cheer Ginny up.

Ginny shrugged but gave him a small grin, "You _do _look like a rock star like this. Rugged." She sighed, "I missed you so much."

Harry wanted to hold her and kiss away all of the pain she was suffering. Maybe it would help him feel better, too.

He sighed, "Ginny, come -"

"Good morning," said Ron as he entered the kitchen with George and his parents behind him. "It's 6:45. Mum reckons we better go now in case there's smedia traffic. Ready to go, Harry?"

Harry frowned up at him, "Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"Not hungry." He shook his head, beckoning Harry to follow him to the fireplace.

Harry offered his half-eaten breakfast to Ginny and she accepted.

"See you in a bit," Harry told her and her parents.

"Dear, do you want me to cut your hair?" Mrs. Weasley asked him.

Ginny shared with them, "It's a form of protest."

"You've read the paper already," George nodded.

Harry smiled at them and said 'goodbye' again. He joined Ron standing before the hearth.

"So I'm taking it that the toilet-entry is a thing of the past?" Harry asked him.

Ron nodded, "Kingsley had it taken down yesterday."

Harry stepped into the hearth after Ron, wondering what kind of media chaos he would encounter at the Ministry.

He dumped the Floo powder at his feet, "Ministry of Magic!"

**!*!**

It was chaos. The Ministry of Magic was located beneath Whitehall in London. It had seven departments. Harry and Ron needed to reach the lifts to get to Level Two. The reporters followed them like a flock of mosquitoes, demanding and relentless.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Mr. Potter!"

"Are you heading to the Auror department, Mr. Potter?!"

"Mr. Potter, could you spare a moment?!"

"Are you our next Minister for Magic?!"

"Mr. Potter! Could you stand still for a photo?"

"Where did you go after the battle at Hogwarts?!"

Ron had to tell them to stop shoving and Harry refrained from pulling his wand out. It was strange to be able to walk through the Ministry even with a gaggle of reporters on his heels. The last time he had been there, he had gone under disguise. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named interim Minister of Magic. Headquarters of the Aurors was located on Level Two of the Ministry of Magic around the corner from the lift past a set of heavy oak doors.

It was a large open area that consisted of several open cubicles for each Auror. The walls of which were papered with moving photos of Dark wizards, maps, and article clippings from the Daily Prophet. The photos of Harry and those allied to him were still being taken down as he and Ron passed through. They were shown in to the Head Auror office. Kingsley was a broad shouldered, tall, bald, black wizard who wore a single gold hoop earring. He smiled when he saw them enter and welcomed them calmly.

"Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter."

"Minister," Harry shook Kingsley's hand.

"How are you both recovering?" Kingsley asked, narrowing his eyes at them critically.

Harry wondered why he felt like he had walked into a test.

Ron replied, "Still shaking it off."

"Understandable. Honest. Good. I am sorry for your losses."

Harry raised his brows, "I think if we had bounced back after one day, we'd have something seriously wrong with us."

Kingsley nodded, "Indeed."

He then moved to show them a list on a clipboard. There was a column labeled _Deatheaters _with names listed below, another column labeled _Arrested_, and a third labeled _Eliminated_. Harry couldn't help but notice that there were more checks under _Eliminated_.

"Twenty or more death eaters were eliminated in the Battle at Hogwarts," Shacklebolt relayed to them. "We are in process of arresting the rest that fled."

Harry held up a hand, "Wait, should you be telling us this? We're not Aurors."

"Yeah, _Harry's_ here for the Minister post." Ron jested, to which Harry stomped on his foot.

Shacklebolt paused then grinned at Harry, "No Aurors have been taken on in years. So few were qualified." He furrowed his brows, "Mr. Potter, do I really need to spell it out for you? This career is tailor-made for you. It is yours if you'll have it. Mr. Weasley, I am requesting that you join, as well. Mr. Longbottom is filling out his uniform order as we speak."

Harry felt too overwhelmed by the moment to answer straight away. He resolved to watch Ron while he mulled it over. Ron had just lost a sibling. Harry wanted to avenge Fred's death as much as his best friend must. Ron was brave, stubborn, and more brilliant than he gave himself credit for.

He would make an excellent Auror. When Ron glanced down at him, Harry could only smile back reassuringly.

"I'll join," Ron said, sticking out his hand. "As long as the Ministry will stop lying through its teeth to keep the peace."

Harry nodded in agreement. Shacklebolt shook Ron's hand with a solemn smile and then held out his hand to Harry. Harry just looked down at it.

"As you may have heard, I was named Teddy's godfather. Lupin's son." Harry gave a small smile, "I want to be that for Teddy ... whatever Sirius Black was robbed of being for me. It has been a transformational experience. I only had myself to look after before. Now ... I have this little lad, too. He's going to be a big part of my life now. I'd want to be a dedicated Auror ... but I'm feeling conflicted, like I'm being unfair to Teddy ... risking my neck as my career."

Ron was staring down at him, "But, Harry ... he's_ not_ your kid. You can't wrap yourself in bubble wrap and avoid all trouble to be there for Teddy. You've got to live your life, too."

Harry knew Ron had a point but still felt conflicted. Teddy was not his own flesh and blood. But, he was his godson. Harry really didn't want to screw that relationship up again.

"Mr. Weasley is right. And I don't think you can risk your neck much more than you did when you broke into Grintgott's Bank a few days ago." Kingsley smiled kindly. "Harry, the decision is up to you. There have been plenty of families with members in the Aurors for many centuries. They made it work. After everything you've been through, I know you could find a way too."

Harry looked off at the enchanted window behind the desk while he made his decision. He wanted to be an Auror more than any other profession in the magical world. He would be a member of the elite unit of highly-trained, specialist officers dedicated to solving crimes of the Dark Arts. Kingsley was right ... this job _was_ his destiny. With the help of his friends, Harry was widely credited for taking down the darkest wizard of all time.

"I am to revolutionize the Ministry. I need your help, Mr. Potter."

Harry had a lot of experience and knowledge to share. It was also one of the most dangerous jobs in the magical world. Harry would need to compromise by taking care of himself physically. Exercising, eating right, and sleeping well. This was what he would do for Teddy and for himself. Gritting his teeth, Harry turned back to the Minister.

"Count me in."


	5. The First Assignment

**Chapter 5**

**The First Assignment**

* * *

><p>Harry knew Ron had a valid point about his place in Teddy's life. But, he will never forget the anguish he had experienced after his own godfather was assassinated. He had only known Sirius for three years, the first year of which he spent stewing in murderous ambition. He had been very attached to him. But, that may have been because of Harry's unhealthy upbringing. He wanted Teddy to have a healthy relationship with everyone in his life.<p>

The bottom line was that he never wanted anyone to experience what he had to. He would wish it on very few people. After getting measured and fitted for their Auror uniforms, Neville must have heard that they were there because he came to greet them.

"Neville!" Harry and Ron chorused together at the sight of him.

Harry was so glad to see him that his hug was a little too enthusiastic. He hurt both himself and Neville, still aching from their battle wounds. Having watched this, Ron was gentler with Neville. Neville must have been taken to St. Mungo's because his injuries like the cuts were closing. But, the darkest bruises were still apparent.

Neville gave sincere condolences to Ron, "I'm very sorry about Fred, Ron."

Ron swallowed then merely nodded and turned back to signing his contract. Their files zoomed into folders and they flew across the way into a wardrobe. With the finality of the doors shutting, Harry knew that it was enchanted so not even a nuke could open it. Neville's cheeks flushed a hint, obviously regretting bringing Fred's death up.

Harry came to his rescue, "So, Kingsley said you were the first to sign up."

"The job's not done yet. Some escaped the grounds. I have to help arrest them," Neville replied as if there was no other alternative.

Harry nodded, "I know. Us, too. We can do it all together."

Neville asked, "But, where's Hermione? Ginny? How is she?"

Harry could sense that this was the question Neville had been burning to ask from the moment he saw them. From what Neville had told them about his 7th year at Hogwarts, he and Ginny were almost always together. They partnered to restart the D.A. and gave the Death Eaters hell.

Ron replied, his voice slightly brittle after the mention of Fred, "Hermione doesn't know we're going after rogue Death Eaters. Ginny doesn't, either. But, they're both ok ... considering."

Neville nodded then smirked, so uncharacteristic of him, "I saw an ... old friend of ours. You should've been here earlier. They've been questioning him for hours."

Neville was either horrible at discouraging their curiosity or was baiting them.

Harry scoffed, "Well, now you've got to tell us who it is."

"Lucius Malfoy." Neville answered without hesitation. "He turned himself in. Everyone knows he's going to spill his guts about his friends to avoid imprisonment."

Harry was not surprised, "Igor Karkaroff got released doing the same thing."

Neville and Ron exchanged hateful comments about the Malfoys while Harry fell silent as he had little to contribute. He understood that Draco was a victim of circumstance, much like his cousin Dudley had been. He wasn't totally evil as he was not totally good. In fact, only a fraction of him might be redeemable in Harry's opinion. But, the fact was that Draco was underage when he did most of his crimes.

He was never given a choice. Harry had a lot of contempt for Lucius that he figured would never go away. He would get excited by the thought of him behind bars. Narcissa was the one he was the most conflicted about. She did not have unconditional love for her family or else she would have helped out Sirius, who had been her cousin.

But, she loved her son and husband. It was that love that got Harry the second chance to kill Voldemort. He did not want to bring up his unpopular opinions of the Malfoys with his friends still boiling about the transgressions. That was a conversation for another day, probably a few years from now.

He took the moment instead to appreciate how he was standing in the Auror office, an Auror among Aurors. He did not have very long to stew in silence before he heard his name being called.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Longbottom please report to the Head Auror Office immediately." said the disembodied voice of a woman.

Ron and Neville managed to exchange a last few Malfoy-insults before they entered the office and Harry was rather relieved to be facing Kingsley so soon again.

Before Kingsley could get out a word, Neville said, "Mr. Malfoy did not need any persuading."

"He consented to drinking Veritaserum to prove his answers are the truth." Kingsley grimaced, "He knew the charges he's faced with. He was almost _too _eager to give details."

"Pathetic," Ron let slip before turning red and going silent.

Harry kept his eyes fixed on Kingsley, hungry for any details. He was itching to go after the Death Eaters right now. Kingsley only had to give the longitude and latitude and Harry would Disapparate from the office if he could.

"The most wanted Death Eaters are on this list right here." Kingsley handed them each one.

Harry trailed his long, boney finger down it. One name jumped off the page at him.

"I last saw him fighting Parvarti and Dean. Travers escaped the grounds?" Harry asked Kingsley.

Kingsley sighed, "He is a skilled Death Eater. We are short on hand to track him down. Will you accept this task, men?"

Harry knew that Travers was first convicted for Death Eater activity after he murdered the McKinnon family during the First Wizarding War. He escaped during the Azkaban mass breakout in 1996. He had gone after Hermione during the transporting of Harry from the Dursleys to the Burrow in July of 1997.

She had been disguised as Harry and placed with arguably the most accomplished Auror aside from Alastor Moody, Kinglsey Shacklebolt. But, Travers was cursed. He tried to capture Harry again at the Lovegood residence. They met Travers once more before breaking into Gringotts, Harry had Imperiused him during it.

"We'll take him down," Ron accepted after a look from Harry.

Kinglsey nodded, "But, bring him back alive if at all possible. As part of revolutionizing our world, we must learn from our history and differentiate ourselves from our enemies."

"Take the high road, basically." Harry narrowed his eyes with uncertainty.

"Their road is flooded with blood. We need not thicken that river. Let us fill our jail cells with them and leave them to rot. They'll never escape again."

Harry lead the way out of the Ministry and into the horde of reporters. They seemed even more pestering than before. Harry could answer none of them honestly, as they were not his to give. There were people in the Ministry much wiser than he was about public knowledge. If the Ministry was to be revolutionized, he could not cripple it now by spilling his guts.

"They've broken out of Azkaban before." Neville reminded Harry once out of ear shot, "They can do it again."

"They broke out while the Ministry was weak with corruption." Harry replied. "Our boss gave us orders. This is our career, guys. We're employed. We can't go rogue. We'll capture Travers and leave him to rot with the Dementors."

Neville hesitated before nodding and Disapparating home. Ron and Harry disapparated back to the Burrow. He could smell lunch cooking.

"Do you think they'll keep using Dementors?" Ron asked him.

Harry shrugged, "Dumbledore never liked them. Kingsley was close to Dumbledore. Who knows?" He then teased, "You outed me from becoming Minister."

Ron let out a laugh and Harry realized how much he missed it. He wanted the old Ron back but knew he was long gone. They were adults now and their childhood was long behind them. They were old before their time. He could only try to help Ron be happy again.

Hardly taking breaks to eat or sleep, Harry and Ron turned over every possible lead to capture this man. Harry was letting his resolution to get healthy again slip so soon. A year ago, he might have been thin but he had enough to spare. Now, he had nothing left to burn off without food. There were moments in which he'd let himself go hungry for so long that his chest would feel heavier.

Whenever he couldn't fight thoughts about his lost loved ones, he wondered if it might crush him but instead it fueled his drive to capture Travers. Neville's frequent visits made it difficult to keep what they were doing a secret. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were the most difficult for Harry to avoid. Ron had it easier as Hermione was still recovering with her parents. All he had to do was come up with excuses for why he can't come to brunch or supper.

Though he had not had to directly-lie yet, Harry saw Ginny everywhere he went while he was at the Burrow when not Disapparating all over the country with Ron and Neville. Unfortunately there were so few leads on Travers. That was not unexpected because of his Most Wanted status. Harry felt as though he were waiting on baited breath for her to ask what he was up to. But, Ginny was not banging on his door to drag him to eat out as Hermione metaphorically was with Ron. This was Ginny's house and Harry was a guest ... her _ex_-boyfriend.

Harry hoped that maybe after the war was completely over, he'd be capable of having a relationship again let alone be a normal godfather. He wanted that person to be Ginny. He still loved her. He had not seen Teddy since the first meeting. He was about to call Mrs. Tonks one evening to let her know that he had not forgotten about them but was interceded by Kreacher.

His elderly house elf said, "A package has arrived for Master Harry and Ron Weasley from the Minister of Magic."

Harry hurriedly thanked Kreacher, fetched Ron, and they went up to his room to check the packages. Having been hoping that it was a letter entailing Travers' exact coordinates, he was disappointed by what he saw. There were two flat boxes on Ron's bed with a note attached to each and an owl sitting beside it. After paying and treating the owls, they pulled the ribbons and removed the lids. Pinching at the bronze fabric inside, Harry fished out a robe. It was of a soft silk brocade and dragon hide. It had fitted sleeves, an erect collar, and the hem reached just below his calves.

Ron was beside himself, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Our uniforms!" Harry breathed.

They feverishly pulled the robes on over their Muggle attire. When Harry turned to see how he looked in it in Ron's mirror, he let out a tremulous sigh of awe. If he didn't know better, he would have called himself handsome. Ron's robe fit his towering frame better than anything ever has probably in his entire life. He jolted when Kreacher climbed up on the chair nearby him and reached to hook the buttons running from his neckline down to his navel, leaving his legs free to move. It fit snuggly about his torso. There was a broach sown near the curve of his collarbone embossed with the label:

**D.M.**

**L.E.**

_**Department of Magical Law Enforcement**_

"Masters forgot their Auror trousers and Auror shirts," Kreacher told them.

Frowning, Harry looked over to the bed and saw that Kreacher had pulled out the rest of their uniform, which also included a set of beautiful dragon hide gloves and running boots.

"Thanks, Kreacher." Harry smiled.

They shed their robes to pull on the rest of the uniform and stepped before his mirror again.

"Did Kreacher ruin Master's moment?" Kreacher asked.

Harry made eye contact with Kreacher's reflection and shook his head, "Nothing could ruin this moment."

Harry tested out moving in every which way he could think of in his uniform. No amount of stretching, jerking, nor kicking impeded him. It was as though the robe intentionally moved out of the way of his legs. He took out his wand and lashed it through the air at the hem of his robe. It did not slice through it. When Harry stood upright, Kreacher gave him and Ron a small ovation.

Ron raced out of the room to show his family downstairs. Harry was about to join him but was interceded by Ginny. She was wearing shorts, trainers, and a long sleeved hoodie but she had makeup on. That was a good sign that she was taking care of herself in light of Fred's death. The funeral was soon. It was too dangerous to hold them while there were still rogue Death Eaters. Harry wanted her to be able to mourn and heal but she can't if Travers and the rest are still out there. He mentally promised her it would all be over soon. Harry could see her wand sitting in the front pocket of her hoodie.

"When did you get those?" she asked, indicating his uniform.

Harry gulped, "Tonight. Quick order."

"I knew Kingsley would ask you to join the Aurors. But, I'd hoped ..." Ginny muttered almost to herself. "He asked Ron, too?" Harry nodded. "Have you two got an assignment?"

Harry hesitated to reply, "Yes."

He felt ashamed instantly. Ron was keeping Hermione in the dark and it was clearly causing him a lot of distress. But, Harry caved the first time Ginny asked. He was pathetic.

"Which Death Eater are you after?" Ginny followed up. "Walden Macnair? Thorfinn Rowle? Travers?"

Hesitating again, Harry muttered, "... I-I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you, Ginny. I didn't think to ask Kingsley -"

Ginny took a step back then walked off to her bedroom in the middle of Harry's explanation. Harry followed her to her bedroom but she shut the door before he could choke out another desperate word. He rested his forehead against the door then whirled about to lean on it with his back. Harry did not want to have to keep anymore secrets from Ginny. He wanted her to be happy again.

After four and a half long, _long _days of searching for Travers all over the continent, Harry and Ron were poised to investigate their most promising lead yet. It had come from Veritaserumed-Mr. Malfoy himself so they were very hopeful. They strategized that arriving in their uniforms might send Travers running. Neville had to change when he arrived at the Burrow dressed in his uniform for action. But soon after the three of them Disapparated together to the location.


	6. May 6th, 1998

**Chapter Six**

They reappeared on a deserted trail in the woods on the outskirts of Heidelberg, Germany. Harry didn't like the location. The woods were dense and hard to see through. His senses were all on fire, aiming his wand at ever snap of a twig or rustle of underbrush. Neville and Ron were flanking him, looking for the same house.

The three Aurors were prepared to expect any method of evading capture. Harry could not let the others sense his anxiety though he couldn't stop clenching and unclenching his teeth. All heads on a swivel, Harry kept scanning his surroundings, checking behind them. After a while they came upon a small house nestled in the thicket. There were Muggle men standing outside the house, apparently guarding it.

But, it soon became apparent that they were cursed. They had oddly blank expressions. The men ranged from rather elderly to middle-aged and were of many different ethnicities.

"They'll have secrecy sensors." Ron assumed. "We should get those out before making our move."

Harry nodded and aimed his wand, "_Accio_ secrecy sensors."

He guided the objects through the broken window so as not to alert the Imperiused Muggles. Harry worried that it was too easy. Neville raised his wand at the Muggles.

"Be gentle," Harry whispered.

Neville cast a spell and the men curled up on the floor to sleep as though the leaves were bed sheets. One by one, Harry and the others levitated them away from the house to the trail. Once inside, the house was expectedly shabby. Harry felt a sense of deja vu upon entering the house. It was much like Slughorn's had been upon first meeting the professor - just like Harry and Ron expected it to be.

Upon entering it, however, Harry was met with another historical horror he had not been expecting. Almost everywhere he looked, he saw Nazi memorabilia. A flag was billowing in a broken window, rusty mugs with swastikas on them were tipped over. There was even a rusting sword in the middle of the floor. Like Voldemort, Adolf Hitler had attempted to exterminate an entire race and killed many innocent people. Possibly more.

"Just when you think we can't have more in common with the Muggle world than we already do ... ." Harry mused, setting the flag on fire with a charm. "Ever think of the magnitude of what we stopped, Ron?"

Then with a pang in his chest he saw that a photo of Neville was pinned beneath the hilt of the old sword. As soon as he saw it, there was an explosion that nearly knocked them flat. The sound triggered something in Harry. He wanted to cram himself in one of the cabinets or run. But, though his heart hammered on, he stayed put.

"Are you hit, Ron? Neville?" Harry hissed through the dust cloud.

Neville coughed, "I'm ok."

Ron shook his head, "I haven't checked yet. Look!"

Out from the dust cloud came two Death Eaters. Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr. both resembled their sons and they were clearly horribly injured during the battle. They danced on the spot, in pain and confused. They were like two small children forced out from behind a curtain to give their lines during a school play. Harry stood taller as he pulled off his hood to reveal his scar.

His bright green eyes flickered beneath it, cocking a dark eyebrow. It had the desired effect. With a crazed look in his eyes, Crabbe Sr. recognized Harry's famed disfigurement and aimed his wand too hastily at them.

Ron scoffed, "Don't be as stupid as your kids. They thought they stood a chance against us, too. Unless you think your more powerful than Voldemort _was_?"

Neville added, "You're injured. You cannot hope to Apparate away without leaving a good bit behind."

Harry ordered, "Surrender yourselves. Save yourselves the humiliation."

"The Great Harry Potter and his Faithless Sidekick, Ron Weasley. We should be so honored, " Mr. Goyle taunted; Harry thought his leg might be broken. "Two on two."

"Can't you count? There's three of us." Neville scoffed.

Mr. Crabbe smiled cruelly, "We didn't count _you_."

Harry watched his friends from his peripherals. Ron did not take the bait as Harry had expected him to. His eyes dead, showing no emotion. Neville was taking Ron's queue. He might have more experience dealing with Death Eaters than Ron and Harry combined after the last year.

"Too much talent sent to capture your arses." Ron said calmly. "Such a damned waste to come back to the Ministry with the likes of the two of you."

Unexpectedly, Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe dropped their wands and kicked them over to the three of them. Taking the opportunity before this could turn out to be a trick, they all hit them with body binding curses. The two Death Eaters dropped with loud thuds. Outside, the Muggles that had been Imperiused came to. Harry could tell by their frightened voices and the sounds of them running away down the nearby trail.

Harry glared between those two men, "Where's your son, Goyle? Did he not survive the battle?"

"You did not save my son!" Mr. Crabbe accused. "You think your hands are so clean, Potter, but you murdered my son!"

"He was a fool to have tried to capture me when Voldemort could not accomplish that for years." Harry shook his head once and allowed him an explanation, "He as good as killed himself, Mr. Crabbe. He casted a Fiendfyre curse which he could not control. We got Malfoy and Goyle out. But, couldn't get to Crabbe. He was burnt alive."

His voice quivered on the last two words though he never liked Crabbe. But, that was a horrible way to die. Ron had admitted he might have felt sorry for him ... if he had not been trying to kill them, that is. Harry convened with Ron and Neville in the doorway, casting _Muffliato_.

"That was way too easy." Harry commented.

"We did not come to apprehend _them_," Ron said. "Where is he?"

Neville suggested, "Didn't you notice how they came out to us? It's like they were _pushed _out." He paused to check that Harry and Ron agreed, "He's got more power than the pair had between them. Like father, like son. They must've escaped school grounds with Travers. They're just scraps off the table. He's the main course." He met Harry's eyes, "He's still here somewhere."

Ron waved his wand, the enchantment falling, "We're just going to make ourselves home here. He's got to come out sometime. I've got the rest of my life." He raised his voice, "Do you, Travers?! Are you injured as well? Hope you don't get infected!"

Nothing replied but the creaking of the old house.

"He's still here. Has to be." Neville whispered to Harry insistantly. "Goyle and Crabbe are disarmed. My secrecy sensor in my pocket is telling me that there's a threat against us."

Harry did not want to stay here with two Death Eater captives. They were sitting ducks. Harry strutted coolly over to Mr. Goyle and tilted his chin up with the tip of his wand.

"Where is Travers? Tell me. Or you'll find out just how much I've learned from your 'lord'." Harry threatened.

Mr. Goyle kept silent, though his breathing grew wheezy. He was scared and weak. Harry was losing his patience.

"Have it your way," he stepped back. He looked at his friends, "We came to do this on our terms and I intend to keep it that way. We'll smoke him out." Harry glanced at the men on the floor, "Burn the house down."

Neville and Ron made to drag Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe out by their ankles but Harry stopped them by touching their arms. Ron stared at Harry for a second or two before he understood. Neville took longer to get Harry's plan. At the entrance, Neville handed Harry a fallen branch. Harry lit it with his wand.

He had hoped that Travers would come out at that point. But, there still was no sound apart from the roar of the fire. Harry had to cross the room and light up a curtain before he heard a voice.

"Shouldn't you three boys be out celebrating victory?" came a cool voice.

"Good day to you, Travers." Harry said, his voice throaty.

A tall thin wizard with a crown of bushy grey hair and a long sharp nose materialized out of the curtain on the other side of the window. Harry had seen Professor Slughorn disguise himself with furniture before. Travers approached Harry slowly, hardly avoiding the burning curtain.

"Here I was thinking Harry Potter did not have the gall to be so cold." Travers smiled while Harry backed away to Ron and Neville. "Guess my lord was wrong about you hiding behind greater men. Even so, I hope you weren't expecting me to hand over my wand."

Harry's eyes were calculating, aiming his wand at Travers's heart, "I was _hoping_ you wouldn't."

"And _I_ was hoping you'd be assigned to come after me. Looks like we both get what we want." Travers walked over to the table, crunching over Mr. Goyle's broken leg. "Muffin, Potter?"

Harry just kept glaring at him, ready to strike.

"Probably wise. Mummy told you not to take sweets from strangers, did she? But, you could use a few." Travers took a bite.

Harry was not insulted by the ease with which Travers used the room. Any second, they will have given him a story to share in Azkaban. A nightmare to haunt his every hour.

Neville said, "You have the choice to come quietly."

"Oh, Potter has no plans of that." Travers glanced briefly at Neville then locked eyes with Harry again.

He was picking Harry out to be the most powerful wizard of the three facing him. This was a huge mistake. Neville and Ron were just as skilled. They would use his underestimation to their advantage.

"Your final battle with my lord was spectacular - so I heard. I was long gone before that. I knew the end was nigh. These last few days gave me a lot of time to gather my questions for you. " Travers chuckled. "A _horcrux_, were you? I don't think magic gets Darker than that. Do you blame that fraction of my master's soul for how fucked-up you've turned out? I watched you walk into my house. So like him, you are. Threatening to have Mr. Crabbe go the way his son did? You had me fooled."

Ron scoffed, "More like your stupid hair was about to singe!"

Travers said to Harry, ignoring Ron, "You know, many of us hoped you'd be his replacement. Lucius was one of those. He gave you my hideaway, didn't he? Spineless coward."

Harry gave him a tight lipped smile, "I won't argue with you on that."

As fast as the lightning his scar is compared to, Harry disarmed Travers. But, Travers did not seem very worried. Wiping out a second wand, Travers blasted the wall behind him apart. Harry and the others dropped to the floor to avoid being skewered by flying debris.

In the scuffle, the first wand snapped. Looking at it closer, Harry realized it was nothing more than a piece of wood.

"After him!" Harry choked, bounding to his feet.

Travers ran unwisely across the slick forest floor and they took off after him, adrenalin surging through their pounding hearts. The tallest of the three, Ron's strides were much further apart. But, Harry's legs were much quicker and he soon pulled ahead. Neville took up the rear. Ron turned on the spot mid-stride and Disapperated to block off Traver's path.

His days of Splinching himself were long behind him. Harry kept sending the disarming spell but Travers deflected every one of them. Distracted by Harry's nonstop attack, Travers slammed into Ron's chest and crumbled to the floor. His wand flew out of his grip and Harry yelled as his fist connected in an downward swing to Travers's head. Travers flailed for a second or two before going still, knocked-out cold.

Neville skidded to a halt and cast a bonding binding curse on Travers.

Breathing shallowly, Harry gasped, "Let's carry him back to the house. We can Disapparate with each of them. To the Ministry, ok?"

Neville and Ron were wheezing and gave their individual nonverbal signals to let Harry know they had heard him. Harry levitated Travers and he trailed along at his side, bumping into several tree trunks when Harry 'wasn't looking'. The fire was just reaching Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle when Ron and Neville grabbed one by the hand each. Ron Disapparated first, then Neville. Harry was left alone with Travers.

He watched the bruise smarting on Travers's temple. He felt like he was staring down a long tunnel. The burning house was just background noise, of no concern to him. His heart was pounding in his ears.

"Fred is dead. Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, all those children ... and you'll get fixed up at St. Mungo's. Carted off to Azkaban for good. But ... you'll be _alive_. How am I supposed to live with that?" Harry whispered, hovering his wand tip by Travers's pulsing throat, "... It's not fair."

He kept swallowing and licking his parched lips. His eyes were glazed over as he contemplated what he was about to do. He could say that Travers resisted once they were alone. He could have been killed then. Harry would have had no choice, right?

Then, over the pounding in his ears, he heard his own voice echoing:

_I won't just blast people out of the way because they're there._

_That's Voldemort's job._

He had said that almost a year ago just after the battle in the sky. The roof of the house collapsed and startled Harry, glancing around wildly. Suddenly, a slightly younger version of himself materialized before Harry. Had he heard his own voice inside his head or was it this a hallucination? It was a healthier, clear-eyed version of him.

Its cheeks weren't so sunken, its hair was much shorter and spikier. It gazed at the unconscious, harmless Travers then at Harry's wand at his throat. It met Harry's eyes and shook its head. Harry gave a shuddering breath as the hallucination faded away with the breeze. The fire went out all at once, ashes swirling about lazily.

Harry lowered his wand, Travers hovering lazily by his side. He blinked around, feeling scared and confused about what he might have done. Harry took his hand and Disapparated to the Ministry. The entrance hall was empty of reporters. A few Security Warlocks rushed towards Harry with made him feel threatened.

But, he kept a lid on it as they hurried away with Travers. Harry met Ron's eyes from across the way and wondered if he could see just how shaken he was feeling. Ron came to stand by Harry's side and admired the purpled knuckles of his wand hand.

"Dad's right. Muggle-stuff _is_ useful," Ron laughed down at Harry.

Though not wanting to be touched, Harry let Ron examine it more closely. They had attacked Draco in a 'muggle-duel' back in their Fifth Year. Harry remarked how much larger Ron's hands were than his.

Ron let Harry's hand drop, whispering, "I knew you weren't going to really let Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle die."

Harry shrugged, "Of course not. You know me."

"... But, Travers believed you were capable of it. After taking down Voldemort." Ron continued. "Good thing ... I guess. We might've been there for days." He frowned a little, "You alright?"

Harry nodded jerkily, wanting Ron to drop it.

Ron sighed, "Yeah. Ready to go home? Face the music?"

"I've actually got a few questions for Kingsley. It might take a while. Save me some tea." Harry replied.

Ron took one of the Floo Network chimneys. Harry didn't have a guess as to where Neville might be. He needed to talk to Kingsley. He rushed to the Auror headquarters but instead of going to the main office, he locked himself inside one of the empty cubicles. It had a bunch of moving photographs of Death Eaters.

Totally alone but for them, Harry sagged against a wall. He let himself feel every emotion he had been suppressing. He slid down to the floor in his cubicle and hid his face, stinging with cuts and bits of glass imbedded in his skin. He couldn't stop thinking about the hallucination he had in the German woods. It was making him shake.

He has been through many battles throughout his life. He had never hallucinated before. It may not have been a normal Muggle hallucination, he argued with himself. It had killed the fire. Or had he imagined that as well?

Was there still a fire he had started in that country, left to burn down the forest. Harry rocked forward and back, trying to stay as quiet as possible. That was difficult to do while hyperventilating. What would Hermione think of him? How did Ron seem so cool and collected? He had left Harry in rather a hurry. Maybe he was doing this very thing up in his bedroom. Outside the cubicle, Harry heard voices.

"Sent after one Death Eater. Brings back three," said one voice, a woman's.

"As if he's compensating for something," said another.

The first voice laughed, "I don't think so. He's going to be one to look out for."

But, Harry knew the truth. He needed to get a grip on himself. He will not turn into what the Death Eaters hoped he would be. He could not let them win. Going about his recovery alone was not working.

He needed someone to talk to. He wanted Ginny. At the thought of her, he was flooded with memories of their romantic relationship. She was his first serious girlfriend. He sunk into the memory of her kiss, her body against his.

Her loyalty, her intelligence, her jokes. The way she rode a broom. He was starting to calm down. He thought of holding Teddy for the first time at Mrs. Tonks's house. That little life he was going to help raise.

Before he knew it, his hyperventilating abated. Harry wondered how long he had been on the floor. His tears had dried on his filthy cheeks by the time he stood up, every joint sore. His ears were ringing a little from the explosion. He wiped his face on his top before exiting his cubicle, smudging the tear tracks.

He saw Kingsley exiting the office and rushed over to him.

"Mr. Potter! I thought you left with Mr. Weasley." Kingsley seemed distracted, "I wanted to give you my thanks and my compliments to your right-hook on Travers. Though, you should stick to magic in the future -"

"Can I talk to Ginny?" He blurted out. "About _everything_?"

Kingsley looked taken aback, "She was one of the leaders who gave hell to the Death Eaters at Hogwarts. She can be trusted. Of course you can confide in her."

Harry nodded, feeling jittery, "I've got to go."

"Mr. Potter -" Kingsley grabbed hold of Harry's elbow, which startled the young Auror. "Sorry." He dropped his hand, "I want you to take two weeks off. They've all been captured, I assure you. Take care of yourself. Eat and celebrate our victory. Go to the funerals, say your goodbyes. Don't look back, Mr. Potter. Move on. I'll see you at the memorial but I expect you back on the job on the 20th."

Paranoia told Harry that Kingsley must somehow know what he had been about to do in the woods to Travers.

Harry swallowed hard, "Thank you, Minister." He sped off, muttering repeatedly under his breath, "I know who I am. I know who I am."


	7. Hope

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

><p>Harry staggered out of the Weasley hearth, the soot hiding most of his injuries. He cringed when he heard the dull roar of raised voices from the kitchen.<p>

"We're planning your brother's funeral and you're running around out there after dangerous war criminals?!" Mrs. Weasley shouted hysterically. "Look at you! You're porcupined with glass!"

"We couldn't put Fred to rest while they're still out there!" Ron shouted back. "I didn't do this to hurt you, mum! Dad! I'm _helping _people."

Harry hid himself by the mantelpiece, camouflaged by the dusk.

"You had us worried." Mr. Weasley said. "We have been out of our minds about you for seven months. Are you going back out again?"

Harry heard a tinkling noises like a pebbles dropping in a metal bowl.

Ron hissed, "_Ouch_! Gentle, that one's in my neck!" He grunted, "No. Kingsley said that the rest are either dead or captured. Nothing to worry about but those damn pests they call 'reporters'."

Harry jolted when he heard Hermione's voice, "I had to find out from your mum, Ron. She _called_ my house looking for you. Ron, why didn't you tell me? You would have found Travers, Mr. Goyle, and Mr. Crabbe in half that time with me. Don't you know that? And you would have been safe."

"I had Harry and Neville with me. Kingsley said we were fit to continue." Ron's voice was significantly lower and smoother when replying to Hermione rather than shouting at his parents though there was plenty of scoffs at this reply. "You needed to rest. You just got your family back. You look really pretty, by the way."

Harry heard a _smack_ and Ron say 'Ow' sarcastically. He wondered how long this fight has been going on. Maybe he should have cried in that cubicle for a while longer. Harry was swaying on the spot. The ringing in his ears was dying away.

He was physically and emotionally drained. He certainly did not have the strength to see the hurt in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, so much like Ginny's.

"Ginny," Harry muttered to himself.

As though in a trance, he left his poor hiding spot and trailed soot across the floor. He tried to stand up straighter and his back made an obnoxious cracking noise.

"Harry? Harry, is that you?" Mrs. Weasley called.

Harry was nearly in the kitchen when someone grabbed him and was kissing him hard on the mouth. Then this person pushed him away and slapped his jaw. Harry's glasses went askew but he'd recognize that petite red blob anywhere.

"Pick on someone your own size," Harry said to Ginny weakly.

"How could you do that to me?!" Ginny shouted, shoving him hard in the chest again. "How could you do that to Hermione, my mum -?!"

He wasn't going to fight back, of course. And part of him felt he deserved this anyway. Harry fixed his glasses and saw that she was holding back tears. He had only seen her cry hard when Fred was killed. Then her arms were around his neck after she hopped up, her fingers in his longer hair.

He held her tightly, even with him hunched over her heels were off the floor. Harry swayed forward after their long moment, feeling a little faint.

Ginny let him go, her eyes burning, "You can't disappear like that again. Not you, not Ron. Not Neville. Swear to me. To us."

Harry gave her a weak grin, "Will you hit me again if I don't?"

She gave a chortled laugh because she was trying not to cry, "_Harry_!"

Harry looked away and realized that this had all taken place before the Weasleys and Hermione surrounding the kitchen table. The only brother missing was Fred and they were all speechless. Perhaps it was the contrast of the clean and the dirty, especially with Fleur there, but Ron looked just as bad as Harry must. Underfed, coated in soot, and peppered with small cuts. There were tweezers hovering around Ron, magically pinching out tiny shards of glass.

Hermione's cheeks were dry of tears but, judging by the puffiness of her eyes, she had been sobbing. They were glazing over again and she touched her lips, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Harry stepped forward.

"Kingsley said we could talk to you guys about our job." Harry cleared his throat, "We wanted to tell you all before. I'm so sorry."

At this point, Harry didn't care if Kingsley meant only he could only talk to Ginny. He must have implied that all the Weasleys could be trusted. Harry approached the table and the tension waned. As with Dumbledore's body, the corpses of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks have been preserved magically. The date was set for Fred's.

Mrs. Weasley said to Harry, "While you were ... 'out', a letter was delivered from Mrs. Tonks."

She handed it to him and Harry opened the envelope.

_Dear Harry, _

_ I have set the date for my husband and Remus and Nymphadora's joint funeral for May the 8th. I wanted to invite you. Teddy has been missing you. I want to establish a schedule as soon as you get into the groove of being an auror. _

_ Hoping you are doing well, _

_ Andromada 'Mumma-T' Tonks _

Harry supposed Mumma-T was what she wanted Teddy to call her. He sat down to dinner. It was Cornish pastie with chips, baked beans, and salad. Harry more than made up for his neglectful diet over the past few days devoted to Travers. They ate in relative silence.

There was a brief argument about whether to wear formal dressrobes to Fred's funeral or casual clothes. George insisted on the latter for he knew Fred the best. Though stewing in his own thoughts, Harry was inclined to show respect with the dressrobes but trusted George's wishes. The stocky-built twin was looking thinner and sleep deprived. The argument did not last long.

Harry kept worrying about the forest fire in his silence. He was consumed with shame for what he had wanted to do to Travers. Harry's letter got passed around and Fleur had it now.

"How old is he?" she asked in her think French accent.

"He's one month old." Harry replied.

He listened to every bit of advice from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Fleur. Being the youngest, Ginny had about as much experience with infants as Harry did. Hermione had read books, to the surprise of no one.

Hermione read the letter, "That's just silly. He's one month old. There's no way he remembers you."

Harry chuckled, "Easy, Hermione. You wound me."

Ron smirked, "Oh, yeah. Harry Potter is so forgettable."

Hermione giggled, "No, it's just Teddy can't possibly recognize faces yet. Not even his grandmother's - whom he sees every single day. But, he should be able to do that once he's three months. He's going to live with her _primarily_, right?"

"Yes." Harry replied. "She barely knows me. What she knows, she probably got from the paper."

"No, I'm sure Tonks and Lupin gushed about you." Ginny disagreed. "They must have discussed post-mortem options with her parents. Mrs. Tonks knew you were the godfather that they picked. So, it'll be a combination of the two."

Harry smiled at her. The dinner concluded shortly after. He dragged his sleepy and stuffed self up the stairs and met Ron, Hermione and Ginny on one of the landings.

"Are you spending the night?" Harry asked Hermione hopefully.

They had been speaking kindly enough during supper. But, he had given her a fright with Ron. They had spent the last seven months stuck in a tent together, longer with her than with Ron. She seemed to be doing the best out of all of them which would be a shock if she weren't Hermione Granger. She had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her screams echoed in his skull at the very thought of it.

Hermione nodded, "My parents know where I am. I told them."

Harry and Ron both sighed at this little jab. She was hurt but did not hate him, of course. Harry did thoroughly believe that they would have found Travers quicker with her.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked Ginny.

Hermione left to Ginny's bedroom after kissing Ron 'goodnight'.

"Kingsley doesn't want me back till May 20th." he told her.

"Kicked you out, did he?" Ginny smirked.

Sensing the flirtatious vibe, Ron exited in a manner of a hurry.

"Brutally. On my backside. Thinks I'm showing off with three death eaters when he assigned me to one." Harry chuckled, then for a second he glared while remembering the gossip he overheard. "Um, I was hoping we could get together sometime. When you're not busy. In that timeframe."

Ginny nodded and narrowed her eyes, "... Sure. See you in the morning, Harry."

He had just asked her out and she has accepted. After the slight rejection from Hermione, this came as a huge relief. Harry did not know where to start with getting back with Ginny. But, they were on their way there with her consent. Before he went to bed, he sent a letter with Pigwigeon to Mrs. Tonks asking if he could visit her house tomorrow.

That night, Harry had a dream of Dumbledore. He was sitting in the headmaster's office. The Sorting Hat and Fawkes the phoenix were snoozing. The sun was setting over the Forbidden Forest beyond the window behind the desk, illuminated the person sitting at it. Dumbeldore was seated there and Harry was in his usual seat.

Dumbledore's hands were both healthy and he looked perhaps younger than Harry's memory. Though still with long white hair and beard. For the longest time, he just stared at his dead mentor and friend. Then the accusations came about.

"You trusted me only with what _you _thought was important. If anything is clear in the year since you died, I never knew you. And you never warned me what my life might be like after victory. How did _you _manage it? You defeated Grindelwald.

"He was your friend. More than that. You loved him. But Voldemort was nothing but my enemy. It's different."

After a pause, Dumbledore agreed, "Our outcomes _are_ very different, Harry. And I ended one war while another was just brewing."

"Is that what's going to happen to me?" Harry asked, his heart skipping frightfully.

"No." Dumbledore swore. "... I shut myself away from love after Gellert. I focused on my career. I focused on helping everyone but myself. I punished myself for the rest of my life. I do not want you to do this, Harry. Learn from my mistakes. You are a great wizard. Most importantly, you're a good man."

"How am I a good man? What I was gonna do to Travers just disproved all of that." Harry spat.

"'_Going_ to do'. That's the key. Barely over a week has passed since you laid down your life for the world." Dumbledore sighed, "Kingsley expected too much from you too soon. I've done it.

"It's an easy mistake to make given what he must have witnessed during the final duel. I expect the public has a superhuman view of you now." said Dumbledore; Harry snorted disbelievingly. "It's not shameful to fall short of people's expectations. You have exceeded mine all of these years.

"But, at the end of the day you are barely eighteen."

Harry worried, "Do you think I'm up for all of this? Juggling auror duties with godfather duties?"

"Who came to you in your hallucination in the forest? Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, your parents?" Dumbledore asked; Harry shook his head and frowned. "No. It was yourself, Harry."

Harry nodded, brows relaxing.

"All you need is yourself. Keep those whom will make the ride of your life happier. Leave out whom won't. You crave action and have a sense of duty. You were at a very vulnerable state in those woods, you were alone, with no one to stop you but yourself. Now I want to hear you believe it: who came to your aid?"

"Me. I did." Harry said. "It was unfair of me to accuse you of not preparing me for this. I don't think I'd ever considered it myself. Even if I did, I would never have thought I might be a godfather. I can do this."

Dumbledore nodded and he faded away, the same imagining of Harry that he had in the forest replaced him. Harry just stared at this healthier, happier version of himself. He awoke the next morning just as the sun was rising.


End file.
